


Heat

by dulce_de_leche_go



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Office Sex, Porn with a little bit of Plot, Post-Hogwarts, Potions Accident, Smut, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 11:46:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13501116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dulce_de_leche_go/pseuds/dulce_de_leche_go
Summary: An unfortunate potions mishap leads to more fortunate results.





	Heat

**Author's Note:**

> Some folks may have read this when I had it up on FFNet. It's mostly the same but I did make some edits that (I think) probably helped improved the flow a bit. Have some Dramione soft smut. :3

* * *

 

Hermione and Draco eyed each other critically from across the board room table.

Of course they would have to be working together; of _course_ they would.

Ever since she found out that Malfoy had entered employment with The Ministry in their Potions Research and Development labs, Hermione had taken great joy in the fact that her work in her own Magical Creatures Department would leave her free and clear of the man.

She so rarely had to see him anymore and when she did it was always brief and usually in the cafeteria with something smart to say. Hermione couldn't stand him with his tall, lean frame, that wispy white-blond hair that always managed to fall into his face, those startling gray eyes, his stupid smirking lips that always looked so...so... _so_ –

"Problem?" The question came from her department head some chairs away on her side of the room.

Hermione snapped her attention to her superior, resisting fanning herself to blow away the heat that crept from her chest, to her neck, to her cheeks–they really needed to fix the cooling charms in this place! The damned things had been out of whack for weeks now with no end in sight and really, they were stifling.

She glanced at Malfoy again from the corner of her eyes.

Just _stifling_.

If the subject of her scrutiny noticed, he didn't remark on it.

"No sir," she answered at last, voice tight.

"Malfoy?" This from his own head who sat in a similar position as Hermione’s on the opposite side of the table.

"No."

The stiffness to his reply drew her attention and she turned her head to peer at him once more. That wasn't his angry tone but one she didn’t recall having heard before. Despite it, though, Hermione watched the side of his jaw tick and the voices of their respective bosses fuzzed into the background as she did: she’d never seen Draco Malfoy looking so ready to burst.

 

* * *

 

_Dragon Primer Tonic._

Draco, for his part, thought it was ridiculous that something was apparently necessary to keep the Romanian Longhorn population from dying out and that “something,” in any form or fashion, involved _him_.

It turned out the stupid creatures weren't mating, not even when the younger ones were locked in a room with one another. While not typically an area of expertise for The Ministry, they'd agreed to help get them to breeding once again – in exchange for some of their eggs once they reached their quota for the new, healthy babies, of course.

As point of fact, Romanian Longhorns had some _lovely_ pieces to use for potion ingredients.

With this deal struck, it had become his job as one of the lead potioneers to brew the aforementioned tonic – a pretty name for a dragon aphrodisiac. It was already a delicate task in and of itself which involved handling fragile dragon _‘bits’_ among other unpleasant items. And, to make the task even more taxing, the Magical Creatures department insisted that the creation of such a thing be monitored by one of their own as a form of "cross departmental quality control."

They gave him a whole bunch of very political sounding bullshite in, what he'd originally thought was to be, one of his normal briefings, all to basically say that he'd be working with Hermione Granger on this endeavor. It was to be his great pleasure to entertain her company and allow her to supervise him and ensure the creation of the tonic utilized as creature friendly of means towards the beasts as possible or some other such nonsense he didn't care about.

He didn't care about the Romanian Longhorn's dwindling numbers.

He didn't care about the fact that they were apparently too stupid to get it up and fuck each other like animals just _did_.

He didn't even care about the fact that a source of extremely expensive potion ingredients could go from being rare finds to flowing in excess after this assignment if all went well.

What he _did_ care about, was the fact that this bushy haired, swotty, holier than thou bitch was nosing through his current potions journal on her stool across from him and he had no way to make-her- _leave_.

Stupid woman, with her stupid hair, and her stupid face, and that stupid nose always stuck in the air with its stupid freckles dotting the bridge of it and dusting the tops of her cheeks. He hated the way it would always scrunch a little when she'd see him smirking at her. Or how her stupid lips, normally all full and pink, would thin out so primly whenever he'd tease her at lunch... _such a stupid bitch she was._

"What?" she snapped.

He hadn't realized he was staring, sneering at her, and she happened to be looking back now. Draco reached across the table and yanked the book from her hands. "Last I checked, you weren't the one brewing, so sit over there and do...whatever the hell it is your lot _does_."

Hermione watched him dismiss her, tracked his eyes as they scanned the pages, checking and double checking his notes, and very pointedly ignored the way he gnawed at the side of one of his lips as he did so. She huffed something unkind under her breath and folded her arms, glaring.

 

* * *

 

Draco was good with silence, Hermione...not so much.

The stuffy air between them lasted only so long before she'd cracked and pestered him into allowing her to at least help with the simple tasks. Draco may have taken top marks in Advanced Potions upon his return to school, but she'd not been far behind; a point she'd used to argue the fact that she was certainly more than competent in helping with this brew instead of having to just sit and watch. A fact that would at least keep her from bothering him with a million and one questions or comments so long as her attention was occupied on something else.

The stages of brewing were fairly simple individually, there were just so many of them and they had to be done in a very particular order that it would have been very easy to lose track if one did not have excellent notes. Truth be told, the latter stages were also a bit... _icky_.

The base to the potion consisted of many of the same ingredients as the famed _amortentia_ , but since they weren't actually trying to make beasts "fall in love" it merely combined the effects of several of the components to stimulate the animal type's instincts to mate and kick all their biological bits into action. While a love potion had to be consumed, the tonic was to be applied topically and the liquid absorbed through the skin.

The primer tonic would simmer with its first sets of ingredients, becoming a potent, volatile liquid until the final pieces were added, one at a time. Since they were needing a dragon primer this time around, they would add some...reproductive organs from the species intended to be targeted. Such a specific thing wasn't actually necessary, but it helped in the overall effectiveness; as long as there was a male and female component to the concoction, it would still work to enhance base attraction and natural mating instincts.

Contrary to the common assumption about primer tonics in general and lesser known to those outside Hermione’s distinction, they couldn't actually _force_ the beasts to do the fun time boogie. It would go a long way in setting up the atmosphere and encouraging the stubborn creatures on, certainly, but it would still be up to the on site breeders to set the physical part of the whole mess up effectively and see it all through. Her and Malfoy were just to provide the... _lubricant_ , as it were.

"The reeds now, Granger,” he said.

"I _know_ how to brew the _amortentia_ base, Malfoy. I know what comes next."

"Oh? Been brewing some help so you can finally get a date?" _Bitch._

He sneered, swiping the back of his hand across his forehead in as dignified a way as he could when one was sweating profusely. For all the taxes taken from his wages, one would think that The Ministry would be able to fix their bloody charms and cool the place off.

Hermione scoffed. "Hardly. I don't _need_ help." She dropped the reeds in to simmer, glaring hard at everything except for the infuriating man across the way.

The silence thickened between them again, Draco glaring hard at the brew starting to bubble, Hermione taking to some very interesting specks of dust floating off to her side. The pair of them were making a special point to ignore all the layers they'd each had to discard over the past hour as the heat from the cauldron made the already hot room, worse.

When the liquid finally started to snap and pop its angrier bubbles, Draco made a soft grunt of a noise and turned to retrieve the pickled dragon gonads from a shelf. "Needs stirring. 40 turns."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at his back at the order. "Please?"

He blinked over his shoulder, fixing her with an even and serious look, then flashing a too wide smile. "Why, Granger, so kind of you to be so eager. Yes, go on and stir. Permission granted."

She bristled and was fairly certain her hair frizzed and crackled in response as well. _Prick_. She snatched up the crystal stir stick he'd been using earlier, making a face when she felt the moisture of the handle, gathering that it'd come from the sweat on his palms.

The potion sizzled as a bit of it swirled down the stick and into the liquid once she set about her clockwise stirring.

Draco returned shortly after, setting out the jars of the dragon organs while she rounded out her last dozen turns. He chanced a glance up to see if she was almost done, only to catch her swiping at the sweat in her eyes. A bead of it had been dangling on the tip of that stupid freckled nose of hers and was flung violently off somewhere in all her scrunching and frustration at the lab-turned-sauna. He remembered to put a disgusted scowl on his face in time for her startled look.

The liquid popped.

"Done," she hissed, now glaring.

"Finally. It only took you— _what_ did you do?" His sassy remark turned cold, irritated, and more than a little panicked when he looked down at the brew.

"What? What do you mean what did I do? I stirred, just as you told – _not asked_ – me to. What's the— _oh._ "

Hermione was staring down now, too.

Both of them were staring into the cauldron, eyes wide, as it bubbled fiercely, roiling and climbing up the sides of the pot in a way that could only be described as "angry."

"It's not supposed to do that," she said; it wasn't a question.

"No," he answered anyway.

They shared a split second of realization of what was about to happen, but the pair of them only made it a few steps away before the whole thing exploded out of the cauldron, spraying the area with liquid and dripping down the sides, snuffing out the burner flames.

Hermione shrieked at both the explosion and the feel of liquid hot magma splattering onto her arms where she had shielded herself then onto her cheek, chin, and neck, where she couldn't. She was making all sorts of ridiculous noises, ripping the kerchief from its place in her hair to blot frantically at the liquid to remove it without smearing it around.

Draco fared a bit better, as at least his sleeves had still been rolled down to keep her eyes off the fading smudge of black on his forearm. Seeing the witch hopping about with the botched hot tonic all over her, he was there in an instant to help blot before even thinking on it.

Between the two of them, they made quick work of it. She blotted and in a bit of a panic, he scooped away some of the splotches on her face to keep it from blistering her skin, wildly patting it off of his own hands onto his trousers when it went about burning him instead. Once neither of them were in any further danger from the brew, they did what they did best and fixed each other with hard, accusatory glares.

Draco opened his mouth to yell something decidedly venomous but the words died on his tongue when he saw the dark look from the witch was something entirely different from a glare. Something delightful, heavenly even, wafted up to his nose from her direction. It wasn't the normal musty book smell she carried in that frizzy mane of hers whenever she strode past him in the halls, it was better. Something heady and sweet and almost...syrupy? Whatever it was, it was marvelous and he could practically taste it on his tongue.

And, whatever it was, it was also slowly stripping away all that tight control that he'd been keeping on his traitorous thoughts of the witch standing before him.

Draco had had his eyes on her for a long time now but his right mind - his _thinking_ mind - was always able to produce logical reasoning as to why looking at her the way he was pretty sure he was doing _right then_ was a horrible idea.

" _What?_ " he growled out in response to her dark eyed appraisal. It was his barely tethered rumbling that made her eyelashes flutter and those stupid prim lips pop open in a gasp. His hands clenched the edge of the table behind him and he swallowed.

"You _ass!_ " she snarled back and shoved him, _hard_. "Look what you've done!" Hermione was barely able to control the hungry way her eyes roved over his body or the way her breath was starting to run through her lungs in short little pants.

Sure, she'd spared him a glance or two in passing, mostly when he was walking away and his cheeks were flexing beneath those smartly tailored trousers he always wore, but it was just _sometimes_. It's not like she'd ever imagined running her hands through his dumb hair. Or kissing that arrogant pointy chin. Or ripping her nails down his back while he pounded into her in one of The Ministry's bathroom stalls. _Never_.

Hermione whimpered, pressing her thighs together tightly in an effort to keep herself from moving and simultaneously ease the budding pressure between them. That always tended to be a problem in close proximity to him even before being splattered with that damn potion. He was glaring at her still and it was only making her heart beat harder in her ribcage. She tried shutting her eyes.

Another noise, very much _not_ a whimper, escaped.

It was like a door she'd worked so very hard to close and lock and wall off behind a tower of cement bricks had suddenly burst wide open and the little person in her head bracing it with all their weight had been knocked clean out. They left her to the completely insane notions that'd been rattling around in there for months along with the image of Draco Malfoy burned into the backs of her lids; Hermione couldn't help but devour the sight.

Braced against the edge of the table still, sleeves tight around the flexed muscles of his biceps, he spread his legs for balance, thighs stretching the fabric of his slacks. She could clearly envision the way his stomach and chest flexed within the confines of his fancy shirt with each breath that she thought were a bit more shallow than normal. Hermione saw him through a haze of lust that had always tried to clog her head when he was around and perhaps saw him more clearly than she ever had before.

The potion that’d seeped into her pores thoroughly stripped way all those neat labels and kicked over the compartments keeping her urges tucked away and contained and stilled because of one excuse or another.

It was enlightening.

It was liberating.

It was, quite possibly, the most brilliant feeling in the world as all that bottled up heat exploded through her.

A husky growl erupted from her as she launched herself forward.

Draco grunted, barely catching the pouncing witch before she sank her claws in him.

His shirt was ruined by way of two forceful yanks; the first came when she dug in at the center and tore the damned thing open, the next when she ripped the material down his shoulders so she could get to the rest of his skin. If he were thinking with his northernmost head, he'd continue his thoughts from earlier, or at the very least yell at her for destroying his clothes. When the sensation of one of her legs hiking up over his hip came, nails clawing their way over the chiseled valleys of his stomach and her stupid mouth clamped down over one of his nipples to roll it between those stupidly perfect teeth, however, the possibility of _that_ ran screaming for the hills. She was working her jaw at the pert nub, laving it with her tongue and making a combination of needy and contented noises that sent heat pooling at his groin.

The new and infinitely better idea of fucking her into next week became his instant priority.

Draco tangled a hand roughly into her nest of curls, tightening and tugging until she finally released his nipple with a loud _pop_ only to drag her up his body. His eyes latched onto her swollen lips and a tendril of saliva was falling, fell, _had fallen_ from her chin to land between the swell of her blouse covered breasts. His free hand clamped onto her hip and angled her to grind over his swiftly hardening erection now tenting the fabric of his trousers.

"Look what you've done..." He rolled his hips against her with a groan.

The gravelly tone raised goosebumps on her arms and she pitched forward again, this time his lips were the victim. Her fingers bit into his skin wherever they could reach at the same time a moan vibrated from her throat into his. The hand he'd fisted in her hair flattened then curled to cup the back of her head, pressing her closer as he tangled with her bites and nips. He swept his tongue across the seam of her lips and she practically purred, allowing him in immediately. The tip of his tongue found and fought with hers, a different kind of battle than typical for them, swirling and rubbing and massaging until he was groaning with each of the desperate mewling sounds he devoured.

" _Malfoy_ ," she tried breathlessly, ripping her swollen lips away. She was sure there was more to it. She was sure it wasn't supposed to come out like a needy plea, either. She wanted to tell him something but his touch was bruising her skin in a way she couldn't even come to mind.

The moment's reprieve seemed to return some of the blood flow to its proper owner, and he gathered what she was getting at with those big, soft, red, red- "Potion," he stammered, breathing heavily and trying not to taste the sweet flavor of her on his tongue, "not—not right—because of th-" His breath hitched with a noise she made. "- _fuck._ "

Hermione's leg was starting to cramp but she loathed the idea of removing it from around him. She listened to him stuttering and wasn't sure if he was talking to her or himself. Her fingers found themselves wandering at the confusion, snaking their way into the silky strands of blond hair that she didn't quite _actually_ hate while he babbled and she forgot what she was going to say again.

His own hands were on the move now, too. Slipping their way beneath the hem of her skirt, nudging it higher up her leg, her thigh, her bum – to make her more comfortable, of course – so she could more easily- "Granger," he gasped suddenly, mouth dry, trousers damp with something other than sweat from where she'd been shamelessly rubbing herself on him. " _Potion_ ," he choked as one of her little hands wiggled its way back down between them, " _Can't-_ "

"Why?" They both winced at the sharp hiss of her question.

Draco's hold on her slackened then tightened again when she started stroking the outline of his cock through his clothing. His head drooped back and his hips twitched up on every third stroke or so. "Potion," he grit out for the umpteenth time and found that formulating words was a momentous task. "Making us-"

With a sudden moment of clarity, Hermione remembered what she'd been trying to tell him, something that'd occurred to her between intense waves of not-so-clear thoughts that he should probably know. And then she was there, climbing his body like a tree like some deranged, bushy haired, spider monkey, to reach his ear. Her breath was hot, just like everything else in the bloody room.

"Not the potion. I want you and if you-" She paused to dart her tongue out to lick around the shell of his ear because, sure, that was a brilliant idea. She was Hermione Granger; she only _had_ brilliant ideas. "-don't stop talking, I’m going to take care of it myself."

" _Bwuh,_ " was the only sound that he could manage.

"It's a _primer_ Malfoy. Not a love-not even a lust-potion...just helps things along."

"Things?"

"Already there, things. So...if you don't stop your stifling bullshite and shag me, I am going to stick you to your lab table and touch myself in front of you and make you settle for licking up the mess."

If anyone were to ask her later, she still wouldn't have been able to relay exactly how she went from 'on top' to 'bent over his desk' in so record time.

Details were a bit fuzzy on the transition, especially on getting across the room, but everything _beyond_ that...well, she was positive she could relive that in Technicolor day after day after day.

Blouse discarded somewhere and her breasts heavy and swollen in the cups of her bra, Hermione whined with need, massaging one cloth covered tit while her other hand curled into the wood of the desk.

"Off. Take it off, Draco, _please_ ," she whimpered, somehow the higher functions of being able to do it herself had fled again.

Draco untangled himself from the remnants of his shirt, getting stuck in the cuffs and trying not to dissolve into a rabid frenzy at the sight of the witch splayed out over his papers. He licked his lips while he ripped free of the fabric, admiring her wild hair everywhere and the long line of her back arching so her plump ass was popped up and wriggling and rocking in all the right ways.

He _had_ to help her. She'd said "please."

With avid dedication to discarding the tatters of his shirt and freeing her from her bra and knickers, he finally had them reasonably good to go. His trousers and pants were unfastened and pooled at his ankles and her skirt was riding high over her hips. He was able to get one good, hard look at the gorgeous creature splayed over his desk, begging for him to ease the needy ache between her legs before he lined himself up at her entrance and thrust into her, hilt deep, forcing torrid moans from the both of them.

 _"More,"_ she cried, barely adjusting to him before she was pressing into him. Her hands curled and crumpled the scattered parchment on his desk and she whimpered and moaned and loosed all sorts of urgent sounds that had him moving, snapping his hips hard into hers before drawing out and doing it again. And _again._

Draco fastened his mouth to her neck, suckling and biting, seeking something to hang on to as he slammed into her from behind and the lewd sound of skin slapping skin filled the air alongside their heightened breathing. His hands fastened tightly to her hips so he could thrust hard, _harder still_ , and had her gasping and arching to help guide his strokes where she needed him. His teeth pulled at the meat of her shoulder between labored breaths, savagely bruising the skin and drawing louder and louder moans from the witch under him. All this time, he hadn't realized he'd been snarling dirty, filthy things into her skin or that, apparently, Hermione Granger very much enjoyed hearing about all those dirty, _filthy_ things. He hadn't realized that at all until her ass ground back against him and she wailed her release.

Her muscles clamped around him like a vise, fluttering and milking him for all his worth until Hermione heard his choked snarl above her and his fingers bit into her hips. In a flash, his rhythmic movements stuttered and turned to frantic pounding. Each fierce snap of his hips happened at a new and blissful angle that sent waves of renewed ecstasy washing over her with each savage thrust. Her nails curled into the desk beneath her, carving off shavings of the wood as she scrabbled to find purchase all while crying out her pleasure.

_"Draco!"_

The desperate call of his name strung his body taut and Draco sank into her as fully and completely as he was able. The tops of his thighs pressed flush to the backs of hers as he came with a groan. He filled her to the brim and well beyond with his seed as it leaked from where they were joined and dripped in a hot, sticky line down the seam where their thighs met. Feeling in his limbs was scarce for several minutes but he managed with some groaning to wrap his arms around her midsection, finding it the perfect balance of soft and firm. Steadying himself with the feel of her, Draco buried his face against her neck through the muss of her sweat dampened curls allowing the world to come back into focus with the sound of panting and faint exhausted whimpers that sounded suspiciously like his own meeting his ears.

They stayed that way for a bit--him sunk into her completely, twitching and hissing at the way she spasmed intermittently around him, and her laid out, sprawled about his papers breathing heavily with a too contented smile on her face while his weight pressed down on her.

Draco mumbled something into her shoulder but made no move to withdraw from her heat.

"What?" she croaked after a minute.

"...didn't realize we were on a first name basis, Granger. Or should I say, _Hermione,"_ he said lazily, trying to be clever, but with his face smashed to her sweaty skin it sounded more like he were half tranquilized. He didn't care. This was nice. She felt very nice...very good. He shifted his hips again at the thought, hummed, and basked in her small hitch of breath. Yes, this was very good. He could die like this.

She snorted and flipped her head so her opposite cheek was now pressed to the desk, sighing happily at the cool surface - cooler than everything else at the moment anyway. "Well..." she mumbled, "...considering I'm half naked, bent over your desk with your prick shoved inside me, I'd hope _that_ wouldn't be considered too forward."

He muttered again.

_"What?"_

This time he gathered the strength to actually pull his face from her, peeling his body away with a loud _SCHLIIIICK_. "Mostly."

"What's mostly?" She picked up her head to get a better look at him.

"You. Mostly naked. You only have your skirt and you came in with more than two pieces of clothing to my lab, so you're _mostly_ , not half."

Snorting again, Hermione flopped bonelessly back to the wood. "And you're nitpicking."

"Dinner."

" _What?_ For fuck's sake, Malfoy, I know you're still getting the back blood to your brain, but I'll need you to make a little bit more sense. Especially if you're going to nitpick my state of undress."

"Dinner," he said again.

His mouth was near her ear before she'd noticed and it made her jump.

Draco pressed a few soft kisses to the skin behind her ear. "We should have dinner."

She hummed, eyes fluttering shut and a smirk quirking her lips. "Are you musing or are you actually asking?" she mumbled without very much bite to it at all.

"Hermione Granger, will you have dinner with me?"

"...depends."

"...on?"

"...are you--I mean, are we planning to make this a thing? You...and me? Are we a thing?"

He moved his hips again just to have her make those involuntary little mewling sounds again. "...you don't like me just because of the tonic, right?"

"I'm not so sure I would say I like you at all when you tease like that.” Her snark came out too breathily to be convincing so she settled for sincere. “But, right. Not because of the tonic."

He smirked. "Then yes...we're a thing...or...I'd like to make us a thing. If you want to be a thing?"

She heard her heartbeat thump thump thumping in her ears for several moments before she replied, "I'd like that. T-to be a thing. With you."

"It's a date then?"

"Yeah...a date.”

For a scant few minutes, Draco’s lab was filled with nothing but the sound of their breathing, slowly coming back to something resembling normalcy, and the persistent ticking of a wall clock’s second hand.

"...Malfoy?"

"Mmm?"

"Are you...are you hard again already?"

"Mmhm..."

"How about lunch instead? After we..."

"You read my mind, Granger."

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out with me on the social medias! o_o
> 
> Twitter: @lechegomyeggo  
> Tumblr: dulce-de-leche-go


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